Ink Blot
by heart dipped in invisible ink
Summary: Post-game. So she stands there, left with nothing but the truth — but really, since when was the truth ever helpful? N/Touko
1. the truth is a shade of gray

He leaves her standing there all alone, with the cold wind slapping against her face, and he takes all of his ideals and dreams with him, leaving her high and dry.

So she stands there, left with nothing but the truth—but really, since when was the truth ever _helpful_?

And she doesn't know how she'll ever move on if she can't discern black from white, right from wrong, and truth from lies—because all he left her with were shades of gray (nothing was ever definite with him after all).

Her world will never be the same.


	2. the world on his shoulders

He leaves her standing there, with tears in her eyes, but he never looks back to see the damage he has caused.

The story has ended here, but he is not the kind of hero that would stop helping others just because the curtains have closed; because somewhere out there, there is always someone or something in need of rescuing. So he sets off for another journey, another adventure. And he takes all his dreams and ideals with him—because really, who needs the truth? He doesn't want to face it, at least not yet (and so maybe the truth that had been lurking beneath the surface of his dreams hasn't changed him one bit—it doesn't matter, as long as he is able to keep moving forward he will never really need the truth).

He hears her say, "Don't go."

But he doesn't stop; doesn't look back—because if he does, then he will have to face the truth, which will then only cause him to regret. And heroes never look back and lament.

For a moment, he sees a world in which Pokémon and humans can live side by side in harmony. There is a resounding cry from Reshiramu, a flash of white, and then the image of Touko is burned into his mind, forever scarring him (and maybe healing him at the same time). He is in the air now and he finally realizes that he has done the inevitable: he has looked back.

And now all he can see is the truth; but he can't take it from her, not when it is the only thing that she has left.

But he promises he will come back to her one day; and when he does, he will finally be able to bear the burden of the truth on his shoulders.


	3. lost at sea

The months that passed after he left were wretched—almost to the point of being unbearable.

By the second week of N's disappearance, she was all skin and bones; the gleam that had once been in her eyes was now just a dull hazy shade of misery and death. It was as if she were lost at sea, so close to drowning but still clutching at that one life line that could only help her to keep afloat—but what was the point if it couldn't even bring her to shore?

But she still grips at that one lifeline, that one string of truth that she has; but it's still not enough to save her from her deepest despairs.

_Some hero you are_, she thinks to herself, the bitterness like a volatile venom that could kill her in an instant.

Because what was the point of being one when she couldn't even save herself?


	4. deadly venoms

After gaining one truth, a million more seemed to rush in after it—like a trickle of water turning into a violent, destructive flood. The barrage of truths had started out small and simple, like most things do, but then with time, reality's truths became more and more complicated and twisted.

The first truth was the ghostly pale figure in the mirror.

The second truth was that time did not always heal all wounds.

The third truth was that letting something go was the hardest part of the process.

The fourth truth was that heartbreak was like a silent death, a deadly poison that would slowly kill her.

The fifth truth was that she still loved him. And that was what hurt the most.


	5. down under

She gives up after a while—gives up on life itself as well as its harsh realities.

So the truth slips through her splayed fingers and she watches as it moves further and further away from her—watches it until it seems like a distant thing of the past.

Her feet stop moving and slowly but surely, she begins to sink into darkness (and as she lets the cold hands of silence pull her away, she sees a light from above—but she doesn't have the will to move towards it).

It's much too late for her anyway.

* * *

><p>It's pitch black. It's stifling. It's lonely.<p>

But she allows herself to close her eyes and drift into eternal slumber.


	6. changing tides

_She lets go of the truth, and suddenly she is down under, gasping for air, all the while knowing that it will never come._

It's much too hot outside to do anything, she thinks to herself sullenly as she lays her beach towel on the soft, white sand of Sazanami Bay. She knows that Bel can see the sour expression on her face, but she doesn't bother hiding it. Beside Bel, Cheren applies sunscreen to his skin acting oblivious to the world, but she knows that he is watching her with little discreet glances.

Distractedly, she presses the water bottle against her forehead, the cold pressure providing a cool relief to her rising body temperature.

"Come on Touko!" Bel begins with a cheerful clap of her hands. "Brighten up! We haven't hung out together in forever, so I say we should, like, make the most of it and enjoy the summer while it lasts!"

Touko inwardly sighs and represses her volatile feelings—because she knows that they are only trying to help because they care about her—and gives a weak smile.

Yes, she thinks as she rotates the bottle so as to not let the cool feeling against her forehead dissipate, it's definitely much too hot outside.

* * *

><p>It's strange, she thinks, too see how far apart she has drifted from her friends. When they speak, she herself can't help but let her mind wander—and even when they try to recapture her attention, she feels as if she were moving further and further away from them. What once used to be happiness and laughter with them was now replaced with an awkward and tense silence. Now their strong bonds are fragile, so fragile that if one wrong move is made, it could tear them apart forever.<p>

And it is all her fault.

* * *

><p>The afternoon sun casts a golden glow across the beach, giving it a dreamlike atmosphere; but all she can feel from the sun is the sweltering heat.<p>

She takes a sip out of her lukewarm bottle of water and fans her face with her hand as she and Cheren watch as Bel and her Enbuoh attempt to build a sandcastle.

"How are you feeling?"

She turns towards Cheren and stares at him. Cheren sighs and pushes back his bangs from his forehead as he waits for her to reply.

"I…," she begins uncertainly with her hoarse voice, clearing her throat for extra measure, "I'm okay, I guess."

She fiddles with her hands and thinks to herself that it feels strange to finally speak after so many months of silence and solitude. The weight of Cheren's gaze makes her feel small and nervous, so she focuses on the sight of Bel accidentally falling into the sandcastle.

"Are you really?" Cheren asks her skeptically. "Don't lie to me, Touko. I know you well enough to know when you're lying."

She fidgets a bit, but purposefully ignores him. She was never really good with lying, after all.

Cheren sighs again. "Look, we won't pry into your business if you don't want us to, but Bel and I are worried about you. You pretend to act as if you're okay, but you know, you were never good at pretending," he says, shaking his head with a sigh—and she notes that he seems to be doing that much too many times for her liking. "If you're feeling miserable or lonely, you can always come to us," he adds, placing his hand on her shoulder with a reassuring grip, "You're our best friend, Touko; we'll always be there for you, please don't forget that."

Shame fills her as she feels the care and trust in her best friend's voice. She didn't deserve their friendship; especially when her alienation—her selfishness—has nearly ruined everything she cared about. She feels her heart clench, and she fights back the tears that are threatening to spill, realizing how foolish she has been—how could she, after all, expect that sitting around doing nothing like a princess in a tower would bring him back? She suddenly feels extremely stupid and selfish, feeling the strong urge to just punch herself in the face for how she has been acting all these months.

As she is thinking this, the pressure on her shoulder lifts and she turns to silently watch as Cheren brushes himself off before offering his hand to her. "Come on," he says with that rare, small smile of his, "let's go help Bel build a sandcastle."

For a moment she stares at his outstretched hand; and then suddenly she is pushing herself up on her feet without Cheren's help, feeling a sense of a sense of determination flood back into her heart and mind. And she turns to him with a brilliant smile on her face—and somehow, she feels like she can breathe so much easier now.

"Thank you," she says.

_She wasn't out of the water yet, but this time, she won't wait for someone to pull her back to shore._


	7. breaking the surface

She feels herself being pushed upwards—and it's such a strange sensation after living a lifetime of numbness—and the shock reverberates through her body and she finds herself kicking her legs upwards towards the surface—towards reality.

Her head breaks through the water and the first thing she sees is a clear blue sky that reminds her of _life_. And somehow, it's much easier for her to stay afloat the second time around and dear Arceus, it's so much damned easier to _breathe_.

From a distance, she can see a faint outline of white; so she begins to move her arms and legs to get to shore.


	8. blotting out the truth

He woke up to the warm rays of a rising sun and found a set of crystalline, aquamarine eyes staring back at him.

_Morning sleeping beauty,_ came Zoroark's cheeky greeting.

N stared blankly at his friend, feeling the warmth of the sun's rays on his face and the melodious cries of the rising bird Pokemon.

"Morning," he said as he stretched his arms and began to yawn, only to stop abruptly.

Morning…?

Hastily he scrambled to his feet and stared outside of the cove with a dumbfounded expression on his face. He turned towards the fox-like Pokemon with a petulant look. "Zoroark, why didn't you wake me?"

_Because I'm tired of travelling across the regions in the dark_, Zoroark complained. _Just because I'm a dark-type, it doesn't mean that I want to do **everything** in the dark. And only dear Arceus would know that **you** need to see the sunlight every once in a while; I mean really, you're so pale that even **I'm** disgusted by it._

N sighed and turned back to the inside of the sea cove, sweeping away the remnants of last night's fire and began to gather his belongings.

Dread settled in the pit of his stomach when the realization that they would have to travel in the daylight hit him.

Zoroark seemed to sense N's trepidation but said nothing.

* * *

><p><p>

Throughout the day, N constantly kept to the shadows of the forests, blatantly refusing to take the main roads. He walked at a brisk pace— so fast at times, that Zoroark would occasionally nip his hand to force him to slow down and relax. Needless to say, they were completely exhausted by the time night fell.

As he stoked the fire, he could feel Zoroark's scrutinizing gaze on him, but he refused to say anything until his friend initiated the conversation. He worked in silence for a while.

_N._

He kept his eyes on the wavering flames. "What is it?"

_You've been acting strange lately; especially today. Whenever we see a trainer on the roads you flinch and recoil, acting as if they were going to turn around and bite your head off. And Arceus, the sunlight! Don't get me going on about the sunlight. I mean really, N, the looking at the sun isn't going to **kill** you. But you never act this way whenever we travel at night. So why are you so afraid to travel during the day?_

N stilled for a long moment. He hesitated telling the truth to even his closest friend—but he had always told Zoroark the truth, so why was he so afraid to tell him now? Perhaps it was because of the fact that the reason for his fear was so _shameful _and _cowardly_. After long deliberation, N relented.

"Because I'm afraid. I'm afraid of what I will see once I step out into the light; I'm afraid of the truth that it will bring."

_You can't always hide in the dark_, N, chided Zoroark. _The darkness won't always obscure the truth for you._

"But still…," N mumbled to himself, "It's still so difficult for me."

_What truth are you even trying to run from?_

And for once in his life, N didn't have an answer.


	9. looking through a kaleidoscope

It's hard for him to see the world in anything but black and white at times; especially when he has been living in such a world for most of his life. But he knows that there are many different shades of gray to the picture—the kinds of shades that he can't help but want to ignore and keep close to his heart at the same time.

…_there was one shade in particular that constantly scratched at its prison bars in the deepest recess of his mind…_

And sometimes, there are too many shades to discern from—so many, that at times, it all becomes a blur to him and _somehow_ it manages to become a mishmash of _color_.

_So he finds himself wishing with all his heart that the world really was only black and white, so that his head won't have to implode from the _**abstractness**_ and the _**complexity**_ of it all._

There are too many exceptions to the rules, he realizes now, so many, that it is too impossible to categorize things into 'good' or 'bad'. And so maybe labeling himself 'good' was a false assumption. But if he isn't considered 'good', then _who_ is he?

_The world and its mechanics were never that simple after all._


	10. change the channel

The words 'Pokemon League' flashes across the screen before smoothly transitioning to the images of the Elite Four members. There is a pause of silence before the brief re-cap of the tournament colors the television screen. As he watches unfamiliar faces flash by, with the music in the background rising to a crescendo, he feels himself being drawn in by their animated smiles and strong, beautiful Pokemon. He watches the television carefully, unconsciously searching for something—or _someone_—without really knowing _why_.

Then _there_, in that one second frame is a familiar face—the one that he knows very well. His long hair shifts to cover his vision when he moves too quickly, and he pushes it back with an impatient flick as he edges closer to the screen. He stares at the television, re-imagining the image that has just disappeared from view and waits in silence for the inevitable moment.

And then she is back again. A victorious smile graces her face as she waves to the adoring crowd; and when the Unova champion himself arrives, it creates even more fanfare. The man formally greets her with a smile and a firm handshake, handing her an official-looking envelope and a key to the gates of the Elite Four arena. He congratulates her on winning the right to face Unova's Elite Four and she beams with pride, saying that she wouldn't have made it this far without her friends, as she gestures to her Pokemon.

Then the screen flickers and fades to black.

He knows he should be happy for her—and really, he truly _is_—but he can't help but feel a bit envious of her strength and willpower. She has moved on with her life; she has made something of herself. _She_ is a _true_ _hero_.

But what has he done? All _he_ has done was drown in his own insecurities and hide from the truth (whatever the hell _that_ is).

And he wants to change...if only he knew where to start_.  
><em>


	11. the boy who cried a river

"Father…"

"You…," the man spits at him, anger roiling in his eyes, his body trembling, "You are no son of mine!"

The man—no, the _boy_ recoils from his father's words. "I-I…father, I—

"You've ruined everything! All of my life's work is ruined because of you!" Ghetsis turns his head away from his son and stares into the darkness searching for something that is so_ out of reach_. After a moment, he snaps his head back angrily as if he can't bear to look away from his _failure of a son_, no matter how much it hurts him. "All because of—

N steps forward in an attempt to calm the man, hoping to appease the one constant figure that has been in his life since the day he was born. At the same time, Ghetsis moves one step back from his son (and it is as if they are dancing some strange choreography with no tune to it, the one with no real meaning behind it except the feeling of _emptiness_).

"Don't you ever…don't come near me!" rages Ghetsis, swiping his arm in an arc, his sleeve rippling at the movement. "You've lost everything. Your kingdom, your title…now you have nothing left. Now you're just a warped and defective boy filled with pathetic disillusions! I have no use for a pathetic weakling like _you_."

N feels his face heat up, coloring itself red. The feelings of frustration, humiliation, and anger fills him but he presses it back down, refusing to let it get the better of him.

And yet with so many words stumbling on the tip of his tongue, all he can say is, "I'm sorry."

Disgusted, Ghetsis turns away from him and walks deeper into the forest, away from destroyed dreams and a shameful past. "I don't know how you've managed to find me, but I have no regrets to say that I want nothing to do with you." He turns his head slightly towards his son with eyes void of any emotion; there is no regret, no anger…nothing.

And it seems as if N has given up on the idea of trying to reason with his father. There was no way to convince Ghetsis that he was still his son, because in this cruel man's eyes, he might as well have been dead.

"Farewell."

The moment Ghetsis turns his head away and takes another step further away from N, he is suddenly gone, his figure swallowed by the dark, shadows of the forest—and for some reason, he has an inkling that the Shadow Triad had something to do with his father's flashy disappearance (but he couldn't really care less about _that_ right now). N slowly sinks down onto his knees and stares at nothing.

He is not a king.

He is not a son.

He is not a _hero_.

He is _no one_.

* * *

><p>He is like a lost child, Zoroark muses.<p>

A child with no place to call home.

A loner with no loved one to cling to.

A stranger to this world with no name to call his own.

_Who are you really, N?_

* * *

><p>He cries at night. He cries when he thinks no one can see or hear him. He cries silently, because he thinks he has nothing left.<p>

_Nothing._


	12. the white swan colored in red

The blade glints in the sunlight and he stares at it for one long moment, with a determined look in his eye.

Zoroark looks up at him with alarm, his ears alert and hackles raised.

_N, what the hell are you—_

He gathers his hair away from his slender, smooth neck and feels the blistering heat of the sun against his skin. His neck stretches out to the side—he feels it crack with his sudden movement—and then with a sharp, downward movement, the blade of the knife falls down upon him with incredible speed and force.

His hands are steady and his eyes are open.

There is no resistance whatsoever.


	13. don't dance off the edge

She sits in the precipice of the cliff overlooking Champion Road, idly staring off into the horizon as a flock of Tranquill, a distant shadow of black silhouettes against the setting sun, races through the sky. She may feel at peace now, but she knows that there is still so much to do.

_The pieces to her plan have been gathered and assembled and now she is finally ready to march towards her long awaited goal._

From behind her, someone says her name and she twists her torso around to see who has called her, finding the ex-Unova Champion standing a little ways from where she is sitting. "Alder," she greets warmly, "how are you?" She makes a move to get up to greet him properly, but he gestures for her to keep sitting as he closes the space between them and sits down cross-legged beside her.

"Well enough," he replies with a smile of his own. "You did well today; you and your Pokemon battled beautifully. But it's to be expected of our little hero of Unova!" he says laughing aloud. "And now…now you're the revered Unova Champion! You'll be talked about for centuries by the people of our region!"

"But I wouldn't have come this far if it weren't for all the friends I have made on this journey, both human and Pokemon," she says with a sense of modesty. Alder smiles at this and ruffles the top of her head with fatherly affection or something akin to that.

"Alder," she abruptly began, "what do you plan to do now…now that you hold no more responsibilities of a Champion?"

Although surprised at the abrupt change in her mood and tone, he replies calmly. "I suppose I'll travel around the other regions for a few more years before I settle down. Why?"

She hesitates because she knows that her next question will expose her selfish nature. "Do you…," she flinches under his watchful gaze, "would you mind holding the title of Champion for a little longer? Until I reach my goal?"

He whips his head around to look at her, shock marring his face, and for a moment she is afraid that she has angered him. "You're resigning?" he cries out with alarm; there is no hint of anger, only confusion—she is comforted by this. "Why, Touko?"

"I need to find him," she declares with determination, her fists clenched tightly. "I can't be a proper Champion until I do. I won't be at peace with myself."

Alder leans back on his hands and sighs—because this is Touko he is talking to (she's just to _unpredictable_). "You know," he says, "the press will have a field day once they get a hold of this."

She looks at him from the corner of her eye and replies, "Exactly."

"But _why_?"

"I'm hoping that news of this will be big enough for it to spread through other regions other than Unova," she laughs at the irony of it—she had always dreamed of being Champion, but now she is giving all of that up for a _boy_ (and she gets a bitter taste of irony on her tongue sometimes, because it's much too similar to the cliche plot of a romance novel, something that she dislikes with a fiery passion). "And hopefully, if people from other regions talk about me, maybe then he'll know that I gave it all up to look for him. And maybe then he'll stop hiding to let me find him…"

Alder sighs at the longing in her voice and gives her a one-armed hug. "I'll keep your position safe until you come back, then. But you better come back with him in tow or else I'll go out there looking for him myself; and when I find him, it won't be a pretty sight." She laughs at this and smiles gratefully.

"Thank you. I'll definitely come back."

"Don't disappoint me, little hero."


	14. search for hope

As she climbs the long and difficult trek up the Dragonspiral Tower, she begins to regret having released Zekrom. She remembers the rush of joy when Zekrom had chosen her as its hero; she remembers the power and strength that had came from their invisible bonds; she remembers the taste of victory with Zekrom by her side.

But then she had fallen from her moment in glory; she had willingly let go of everything that made her feel…_alive_. But she had been so scarred and crazy from her depression back then; she had wanted nothing to do with anything that reminded her of a boy with a soft smile and the unrealistic kindness of a prince.

She wonders if Zekrom is bitter over her abandonment.

A harsh clatter to the ground brings her to her senses—she curses indefinitely and favors her now-painfully throbbing knee with a frown. With a groan, she pulls herself up from the ground—she sees the cracked staircase that had caused her to trip and gives it an accusing glare—and realizes that she has finally reached the top of the tower.

Her hope diminishes.

There is nothing. No sign of life. No Zekrom.

Zekrom was probably the closest link that she had to N…and if there was no Zekrom to guide her, how would she be able to finally find him?

Her hands flutter nervously against the throbbing pain of her knee. She feels panic begin to overwhelm her but she forces herself to calm down.

_Don't panic_, she thinks to herself, _there's still time._ _You have all the time in the world to search for him._

So she turns back around and begins her long descent with a heavy heart despite her weak reassurances.

* * *

><p>She exits the tower with a heavy sigh and stares up at the sky in search for the sun, but there is nothing but dark storm clouds. The rain falls heavily about her and she reaches into her bag for an umbrella, but then a cold gush of wind pushes her back a few steps and she can't help but close her eyes against the sting.<p>

There is a thundering roar and a loud, ground shaking earthquake beneath her feet and she feels the hair on her arms rise up from the strong crackling of _electricity._ A gasp escapes her lips and she cracks open her eyes with a frantically thumping heart and she sees the majestic legendary towering over her.

"Zekrom…"

A rumble emits from its being and it leans its head down. She flinches involuntarily and wonders what it is about to do. Is it happy to see her? Angry? Bitter?

She feels a light pressure against her forehead—it is soft and reassuring—and her eyes flicker up to it to see that it is planting a light kiss to her forehead—as if to say _welcome back _or _I missed you_ or _I've been waiting for you_.

"Yes," she says as tears of joy fall down her cheeks, "It's been a while hasn't it?"

She slowly wraps her arms around its neck and feels the electricity crackle between them.

_Thank you for waiting._


	15. mysteries of the world

As she travels through the regions, she hears of strange things.

A recently quashed uprising of a once notorious group in Sinnoh.

A puzzling colossal explosion and razing fire in an old, abandoned underground hideout within Mahogany Town.

A mysterious overnight hero and his legendary Pokemon.

She knows that Zekrom is doing its best to track N and Reshiram down, but as the journey grows longer and stretches across vast lands, she can't help but feel frustrated at the never ending chase after him.

People call this boy a hero. Someone who protects the bonds between humans and Pokémon. Someone who searches for a bright and harmonious future.

As she lies on the grass, under the stars, she can't help but wonder what has caused him to change his old ways and thinking.

Her hand stretches up to the sky as if to try to claim one of the millions of shining, bright gems in the midnight colored heavens. Next to her, Zekrom lifts its head at the sudden movement but then settles back down when it realizes that it is just her and her restlessness. It nudges her arm as if to tell her to go to sleep and she hums absentmindedly, too lost in her thoughts to give a proper response.

There may be many mysteries that are enshrouding the boy hero, but the one thing that she is entirely positive of is that he is doing dangerous things.

She wonders why, but that too, is a mystery in itself.


	16. crazy is the new sane

_You're crazy_, Zoroark seethed with righteous anger, but the relief and lingering fear in his tone told another story.

And the man just laughed, laughed because he could; laughed because he felt renewed, because he felt rejuvenated. He was not the boy named 'N' anymore. But he hadn't found a name for himself either.

He didn't really care about that miniscule fact, though.

_He may not have a name anymore, but a name doesn't always define a person._

* * *

><p>He reaches behind his back to sweep away his hair but finds himself grasping at air. For a moment, he is frozen in shock; but then the memory comes rushing towards him like a crashing wave and his hand moves up to finger the short, green locks. He smiles with solemnity.<p>

…_who is N?_


	17. hope for the false hero

She's looking for you, you know.

N glanced up at the white, grandiose figure with a startled look.

"Who?"

_The girl hero and my other half._ Reshiram lifted up her head and stared into the sky with a contemplative look. _He keeps trying to contact me through our mental connection, but I've been blocking him. I wasn't sure if you wanted them to find you yet._ A pause. _Do you?_

"No, not yet," was his immediate reply. "I can't meet her like this-the way I am now. I'm not a proper hero yet."

_N_, sighed Reshiram, I _don't think the girl really cares about that—_

"But it's important to me," he insisted profusely. "I left her as a false hero, so I should come back to her as real one. If I didn't, I wouldn't be able to look her in the face and tell her-" he stopped himself short, frustration evident on his face. Tell her what? Tell her that he might actually be falling for her? Tell her that he might actually want to make her his metaphorical princess? Tell her that she might be the only one who could piece back the millions of shards that used to be his heart back together again?

All of that sounded ridiculous yet so very true.

"Just...just give me a little bit more time; I haven't even proved to myself that I'm worthy of being able to stand by her side. If I'm not even confident about that, then what makes me think that she wants me to be near her?"

Reshiram simply sighed and lowered her head to gently nudge the troubled boy with too big of a dream and burden to carry.

_If it's any consolation_, said Reshiram at last, _you're already a hero in my eyes._


	18. burning away the foundations

Deep within the dark recesses of a filthy, rotting underground hideout, an ominous and terrifying sense of danger lurked beneath its surface and supposedly innocent facade. Two figures silently crept along the shadows of the walls with great caution as if afraid that any sudden movement could alert any possible enemy of their prescience. Slowly, as they both neared the turn of the hallway, the figure in front peeked around the corner and when deciding that the coast was clear, he-

_This is ridiculous_, Zoroark suddenly said with annoyance all too clear in his tone. _And extremely reckless, not to mention dangerous. Have I mentioned that you're being really stupid today?_

Frowning, N turned around to face his friend and placed a forefinger to his mouth as an indicator to keep quiet.

_And what if you get killed while trying to play hero, huh? This is a crime syndicate we're dealing with here—well sure, they've been thwarted two times already, but they're still evil. And who knows, maybe third time's the charm for them!_

"Well if a ten year old kid beat them down each time, then what about me? I'm almost eighteen now; it should be easy for me," N replied.

_Yeah, but you have the mind of a stupid toddler_, grumbled Zoroark under his breath. _Who knows what'll happen._

* * *

><p><em>That was completely and utterly reckless of you. Very, very idiotic and rash. Have I told you that you're being very stupid today?<em>

They are now stumbling away from the razing fire that had erupted just moments ago from the underground hideout. It's kind of poetic, he reasons, about how the flames are burning away something stale and wicked, leaving a new slate for something better to begin anew. Which is sort of like what he's doing at that very moment.

N takes a moment to hack on soot and lingering black fumes. "You might have mentioned that once or twice already, I think."

_But you never ever listen to me!_ grouses Zoroark, his trail flicking to the side in the act of great agitation. _And why, in the name of Arceus, are you carrying around that damned Swinub for?_

"Because the little girl asked me to bring him back for her," argues N. The baby Swinub, as if sensing Zoroark's anger, burrows deeper into N's arms in an attempt to hide.

The fox Pokémon simply scowls.

N doesn't regret his actions. Not when he risked his life to rescue all the stolen Pokemon nor when he set the secret base ablaze with flames along with its secret devices and machines of war.

And he definitely doesn't regret anything when he sees the bright smile of the little girl as he gently hands back her best friend.

It was all worth it in the end.


	19. writer's block

_Dear Touko,_

_ How are you? I hope you are doing_

Here, N paused, stilling his hand. The letter sounded too...too blasé; it seemed to completely ignore the perils they had faced and the final event that had ended it all—it was as if he had never left her to face reality, while he himself ran away from it like the coward he was.

The thin white sheet crumpled with a satisfying crunch and was tossed carelessly over his shoulder. He grabbed for a new sheet and swept the pen across the page.

_Dear Touko,_

_ I know I'm not good at this kind of thing (talking to people and the like), but I'd like to try anyway. I_

N frowned at his words. It was much too awkward sounding for his liking. He would need to start again.

_Dear Touko,_

_ I miss you._

Another crumpled piece of paper was added to the pile. N groaned miserably and pinched the bridge of his nose. Why was it so hard to write one simple letter to her?

He let out a sigh and began again.

_Dear Touko,_

_ You've probably forgotten all about me—this is a very probable truth. But strange as it may be (and hopefully this doesn't sound too creepy), I think about you more than I really should._

He paused for a moment to look over his words.

No, he thought as he shook his head, it still doesn't sound right.

He stared at the empty sheet in front of him. And as if his energy were renewed by some thought or feeling, his pen sped across the page and back again repeatedly.


	20. you've got mail

"_A letter was sent to you,"_ came Cattleya's calm voice over the speaker of her C-Gear. "_I didn't open it, of course, if that's what you were wondering. It's in your PC, whenever you feel like reading it."_ A pause. "_Also, the rest of the Elite Four sends their regards."_

"Ah, thanks Cattleya," Touko smiled gratefully at the other girl on her screen. "Tell everybody I said hi."

"_Alright."_ Cattleya nodded but then frowned. _"Are you getting enough sleep? You look terrible."_

"Er, well I might have been pulling some all-nighters," admitted Touko sheepishly. "But it's nothing to worry yourself over, honest."

The blonde huffed indignantly. _"I doubt that. You better get a good night's sleep after this, got it? I don't want you dying on us over some pretty boy."_

"Alright, alright, I will," Touko relented with a sigh.

"_Good. Bye."_

"Bye-bye."


	21. piecing back the broken glass

_Dear Touko,_

_There are so many ways to start this letter; but somehow I find that the beginning is always the hardest to write._

…

_I think I have gotten better at talking to people; still, sometimes it's really hard for me to think of the right words to say—but I'm slowly getting there. So maybe when I see you again, I'll be able to say what I want to say without having to feel like I'm having a heatstroke or a heart attack._

…

_You're probably angry at me for leaving you and going off on my own. But I needed solitude; I couldn't face the truth that my whole life had been a lie. I needed to recuperate, to be able to find myself again—that was my one hope._

…

_I'm still broken of course, but I've glued back all the major pieces together; I'm just working on the little things that will help me get better. So I can't find you until I'm sure that I'm in one whole piece again—otherwise I might cut you with my broken glass._

_So please bear with my selfishness a little longer._

_N_


	22. a blinding light

"Stupid," she finds herself sobbing out, the word being strangled by her tears and tight throat. "You're so _stupid_."

* * *

><p>She had never thought of him selfish. In fact, she had always thought of him as kind and idealistic. It was sort of beautiful in way to her, no matter how terrible the organization he belonged to was.<p>

She had always felt that he was like a shining star with so many possibilities—she had wanted to be able to stand beside him just once and see how brightly he could shine. But he had always to blinding to be even be able to look at—and sometimes she wonders if he had ever felt the same way.

She hopes that he will be able to change himself into the person that he aspires to be; and no matter how drastic his change was, she swore to support him and his decisions. A strong hope that he would come to love himself was buried deep within that resolution of hers.

* * *

><p>Her eyes clenched shut and she hugged the letter tightly to her chest as if she were afraid that it would disappear if she loosened her grip on it.<p>

_You're so stupid, N._


	23. anywhere but here

"It's been so long since we've been here. Isn't that right, Zoroark?"

The man stood immobile in front of the slowly rotating ferris wheel, captivated by its beauty and intricate formulas while his long time partner snuffed and shuffled about the area around them.

_Yeah, whatever. Are you done reminiscing yet, N? I absolutely _hate_ crowds._ As if to prove his point, Zoroark's fur stood at its end when a wandering child came too close for comfort.

N sighed and shook his head, his hair tickling his face at its slight movements. I'll need to cut my hair later, he thought absentmindedly, it's getting too long to maintain.

How many years had it been since their encounter here? "Three years," he mumbled under breath. Had it really been that long? It had seemed so much shorter than that.

He wonders what she is doing at this very moment—he knew that she was still chasing after him, and he felt terrible for allowing her to do that. But he wasn't ready yet; all he needed was a little more time. Hopefully she would be understanding about this.

"All right," he finally relented after a minute of immersing himself in nostalgic memories. "I'm done here; where do you want to go now?"

The black fox wrinkled his nose and said, _Anywhere _but _here_.

With a laugh and one last look to far-gone memories, N turned away and took a step into the present.


	24. disappearing act

Amidst the bustling, colorful crowds of Raimon City, a young woman silently stared at the large, magnificent ferris wheel from a distance. Her eyes were glazed over as if in a strange trance as she thought of him and that one sentence that he had said to her up in that ride—it had rocked her world to the very core, to think that someone as kind, no matter how strange, as him could be a part of something so _evil_.

But upon seeing the world sprawled out before her in that single moment at the peak of the ferris wheel, and she had thought that anything was possible.

She still believed that, she really did—but the matter concerning N, she couldn't help wonder if trying to find him was a lost cause.

As if sensing her distress, her Daikenki gave a low whimper and whacked its tail lightly against her legs.

Startled, Touko glanced down and gave her Pokemon a sheepish grin.

"Ah, sorry, Daikenki," she found herself saying, "Got a little lost on memory lane there, didn't I?"

Daikenki huffed despairingly.

Touko shrugged at it before getting up from the bench that she was sitting on and stretched. "What should we do now?" she wondered aloud as her eyes swept along the moving throngs of people, in search for something to occupy herself with. "We've already visited Kamitsure, so…"

As she was about to suggest going to the Battle Subway, her mouth suddenly went dry and her blue orbs widened considerably as a flash verdant green appeared amidst the crowds. And although the length of the stranger's hair was significantly shorter, the color of it was exactly the same. It was _N_—or at least it had to be. With a burst of renewed energy, she sprinted into the multitude of moving bodies, ignoring the surprised shouts and annoyed glares—the only thing on her mind at that moment was getting to N.

"N!" she shouted desperately at his retreating back. "N, wait!"

She wasn't sure he heard her—he may have been a completely different person, but she wasn't one to think of the negatives—but at that last moment, before the figure crossed over the grand arches that led into the other part of the city, she could have sworn that the figure hesitated at her last plea.

And then he was gone.


	25. salvation

Over the great expanse of the plateau lies the desolate remains of N's castle. Large white pillars jut out from the mass of rubble that litters the ground, and Touko can't help but think of majestic empires that have fallen and crashed to the ground, disappearing into the past's obscurity. Feet swinging, she leans back on her hands that are gripping the dusty surface of one the marble pillars and looks up into the afternoon sky. Her hands absentmindedly sweep across the pillars surface, tracing an unfamiliar pattern over and over, until Touko is nearly positive that her finger has left a permanent mark—and she closes her eyes and lets out a world weary sigh.

It's peaceful, she can't help but think, despite all the terrible things that happened here. And if she really wants to, she could probably spend hours on end here and never notice the world continue to turn beneath her feet.

She doesn't notice it at first, but eventually Touko is brought back to reality by the soft pattering of footsteps and shifting rubble. She doesn't want to open her eyes—not really—and she most definitely doesn't want to go back and face reality when the silence and solitude is so much more preferable—

"Touko."

Her hearts stops suddenly.

"Touko, it's me."

No, she thinks fearfully, don't listen to him. You're dreaming, Touko. It's all just a dream. He can't possibly be—

"I came back."

A voice so sweet and soft, like a soothing lullaby.

She forces her eyes open and bites her tongue to stop herself from crying out, but she still doesn't believe it, doesn't believe that this is her reality.

Verdant green eyes and a shy, apprehensive smile.

"N," she breathes out.

And somehow it feels as though nothing and everything has changed.

"You came back," she says, voice cracking slightly because she knows this can't be real, it simply can't be, it isn't, it's not, it's not—

He shifts slightly, right shoulder lifting in a semi-conscious shrug, and replies, "Yeah. I did."

And she doesn't know what breaks her fervent delusions and her fearful trance—maybe it is because of the his voice, soft, kind and apologetic; or maybe it is the way he looks at her, wide-eyed and awed and terribly guilty. But whatever it is, it forces her feet and legs forward, one step turning into a full-fledged run towards him—_salvation_.

And when she crashes into him, arms spread open and his name repeatedly spilling from her lips, she doesn't mind the slight pain as she bangs her knees on the floor when she brings him down with her. All she can feel is the way he clings to her just as tightly, the warmth in her heart spreading and filling her eyes with tears, because this was all she had wanted—all that she had been waiting for all this time, and for the first time in a long time, everything felt perfectly right.

And even if the words were left unspoken, she knew exactly what he had been trying to say all along.

_I came back for you._


End file.
